The fires are already burning as you file through the entrance, a gap in a chain-link fence that guards a roofless concrete shell covered with bright graffiti. This isn't "Escape from L.A.," it's dance theater in Southeast Portland, where a crowd has already gathered under a moonless sky.

"Ragnarok," a site-specific piece choreographed by Heidi Duckler, tells a Norse myth of fallen heroes clashing in an epic battle, with dancers and multi-disciplinary performers interacting with each other and with the space -- the abandoned former Rexel/Taylor Electric Company building. The piece is filled with unpredictable surprises, some coming from the crowd itself.

A voice from the crowd: "Hush, the performance has started!" Indeed, vagabonds have quietly emerged from the ruins of the burned-out building, some in threadbare clothing, others more thriftstore-decadent, warming themselves over oil-can fires before beginning a series of synchronized movements.

Soon, a breakdancer comes loose from the group and begins a pas de deux with a pink-clad maiden trapped in a nearby pit, alternately seducing her, frightening her, and attempting to fling her free from her damp confines.

The work is broken up by interludes both charming and epic -- Dr. Seussian characters splashing through water in pajamas and rubber boots, a Spiderman-esque performer in a magnetic duet with a warehouse wall, a hooded figure spinning a pair of flaming swords. Supposedly penned in by orange cones, the audience wanders past burning pallets and onto the sprawling stage to get a closer look.

View full sizeDr. Seussian dancers in pajamas and rubber boots.Michael Russell, The Oregonian

A Portland native, Duckler has been creating site-specific performance art with her eponymous Los Angeles company since the 80's, but the local offshoot, Heidi Duckler Dance Theater Northwest, has a new spirit of collaboration and experimentation that is unique to Portland.

Finding trained dancers is "the most challenging part" of working in Portland, Duckler explained over the phone from a rainy on-site rehearsal earlier this week. Instead, she looks for performers with unique skills -- a rock climber, a fire thrower, a tango dancer -- people skilled at "partnering with a space" as well as with the choreography and with each other.

The "Ragnarok" legend is the dystopian story of a cyclical future period of destruction and rebirth: an endless
winter, a rising sea, betrayal and war, with the few who survive
destined to repeat their mistakes after the purge. But for this performance, Duckler was inspired as much by the massive puddles and peeling paint of the ruined warehouse up the hill from OMSI as she was by the Norse saga.

The fate of the site is a bit like the performance itself. A short walk from the restaurants and bars on Southeast Water Avenue and with its shimmering views of downtown, the city block is a developer's dream. For now, its existence is fleeting, as is "Ragnarok," which returns tonight only to this dramatic wreck.